


Elegy (after eternity has passed)

by nonon0 (ikiriyo)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: ?? - Freeform, F/F, M/M, Multi, Poetry, Wtf am I doing, listen i know since i wrote it i should know what it is, nah, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:10:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6792697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikiriyo/pseuds/nonon0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(i end up shipping anything with chemistry so here we are with my new ot3, alone and writing horribly angsty and Unnecessary bs)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elegy (after eternity has passed)

**For Simon,**

her laugh steals his breath away but feels like a revival. Her kiss summons his bygone humanity back from the dead, as bright as pomegranate and twice as sweet—  
She is his heart.

_(But he makes him forget about the sun. His eyes hold silent uproars like his bite holds prayers, like his prayers hold pain, like his pain holds tenderness, and his tenderness regret—  
He is his soul.)_

* * *

**For Isabelle,**

he makes her curse the angels; every word he breaths against her neck a blessing, striking her core like a match and setting her skin on fire. He is as much the blood coursing through her veins as the blood on her lips—  
She could kill for any love yet for him, she'd die.

 _(But he is the ache in her beloved bones; she is trampled and built anew every time he smiles. He makes peace with her wars and brings flowers to the graveyard at her throat, even if his promises never stay past sunrise—_  
She could kill for any love yet for him, she'd live.)

* * *

**For Raphael,**

her confessions spark his wishes for both eternity and an apocalypse. Her whisper starts a revolution; her wandering hands turn his shoulder blades into battle fields, and victory is decided only by dancing fingertips. She spins him from monster to righteous, but he cannot bear to have her—  
She is the worst kind of benedicite; goddess of the devil’s heaven.

_(But he is honest, burning paradise. He is a hellish privilege reserved for sinners; redemption after he’d given up hope for any relief. He counts his scars then sets him free with each answering revelation—  
He makes him grateful for wrath, for God's divine curse became his ironic salvation.)_

* * *

_— and even without hallelujahs, the lovers' worship is reverence greater than anything of holy faith_

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me in suffering: http://the-bane-ofmyexistence.tumblr.com/


End file.
